hen he went along for
another half-mile in the teeth of the cutting wind with the twilight
rapidly coming on, until he came to the clump of dark firs and presently
walked up a gravelled drive to a large, but somewhat inartistic,
Georgian house of red brick with long square windows. In parts the ivy
was trying to hide its terribly ugly architecture for around the deep
porch it grew thickly and spread around one corner of the building.

A ring at the door brought a young manservant whom the caller addressed
as Arthur, and, wishing him good afternoon, asked if Mrs. Bond were at
home.

"Yes, sir," was the reply.

"Oh! good," said the caller. "Just tell her I'm here." And he proceeded
to remove his coat and to hang it up in the great flagged hall with the
air of one used to the house.

The Manor was a spacious, well-furnished place, full of good pictures
and much old oak furniture.

The servant passed along the corridor, and entering the drawing-room,
announced:

"Mr. Benton is here, ma'am."

"Oh! Mr. Benton! Show him in," cried his mistress enthusiastically.
"Show him in at once!"

Next moment the caller entered the fine, old-fashioned room, where a
well-preserved, fair-haired woman of about forty was taking her tea
alone and petting her Pekinese.

"Well, Charles? So you've discovered me here, eh?" she exclaimed,
jumping up and taking his hand.

"Yes, Molly. And you seem to have very comfortable quarters," laughed
Benton as he threw himself unceremoniously into a chintz-covered
armchair.

"They are, I assure you."

"And I suppose you're quite a great lady in these parts--eh?--now that
you live at Shapley Manor. Where's Louise?"

"She went up to town this morning. She won't be back till after dinner.
She's with her old school-fellow--that girl Bertha Trench."

"Good. Then we can have a chat. I've several things to consult you about
and ask your opinion."

"Have some tea first," urged his good-looking hostess, pouring him some
into a Crown Derby cup.

"Well," he commenced. "I think you've done quite well to take this
place, as you've done, for three years. You are now safely out of the
way. The Paris Surete are making very diligent inquiries, but the Surrey
Constabulary will never identify you with the lady of the Rue Racine. So
you are quite safe here."

"Are you sure of that, Charles?" she asked, fixing her big grey eyes
upon him.

"Certain. It was the wisest course to get back here to England, alt